


tibi amice speravi

by Vennat



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Autistic Character, Drabble, Overstimulation, Panic Attacks, Sensory Overload, Stimming, The Author Regrets Nothing, author regrets everything, autistic matt murdock, crossposted on tumblr, foggy is a good bro, i Haven 800 ongoing fic summer and i wrote this sorry., matt Murdock learns to trust his friends, s3 SPOILERS!!!!!, tag to s3ep9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 09:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vennat/pseuds/Vennat
Summary: (read tags!!)au in which Matt trusts in his friends a little bit more.AKAMatt calls Foggy in the wake of some revelations.





	tibi amice speravi

**Author's Note:**

> Matt Murdock is autistic and you'll pry this head canon from my cold, dead hands. 
> 
> Title is something along the lines if "trust in my friends" I honestly cant remember what I put in Google translate and cant be assed to figure it out. Also, Google translate, so beware latin-speakers on how accurate that is. (I've had a thing for Latin titles recently lol)
> 
> I have another daredevil fic that has been fairly well received if the kudos count is anything to go by, so check it out?

_Mother-_

  
His mother. Here this whole time but never- never _there_.

  
She held his hand when he woke up screaming, never once pitied him, stitched his wounds-

  
But never told him the truth.

  
Matt’s hands shake, and the breath in his lungs presses painfully in and out of his chest.

  
Her voice rings in his head, over and over.

  
_Our son._

  
Voices of the long dead ring in head and he can’t-

  
He can’t-

  
His fingers move across the numbers on his burner phone, a number so familiar that he doesn’t need sight to type it.

  
_“Franklin Nelson.”_

  
His breath came out the other end in a staticy huff.

  
“Fog- please, please- I, I can’t-”

  
_“Matty? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”_

  
_“_ No, I- my mother- Maggie-”

  
A sob chokes it’s way through his throat, which is closing alarmingly fast.

  
_“Matty?” There’s a tinge of panic in Foggy’s voice too. “Matty, take a deep breath, and tell me where you are. Ok bud? Deep breath.”_

  
Matt heaves in a breath, but he seems to have forgotten how to let it back out, so he just takes in another breath- and another and-

  
“Fogwell’s-” he gasps out. Foggy starts to say something else but he snaps the phone closed and throws it as hard as he can against the opposite wall.

  
His back presses against the plastic of the ring, he can feel the sweat and blood, the blood wet and sticky and it’s on his hands and he can’t escape it and-

  
His world has narrowed down to pinpricks, now. His head is between his knees, the cotton of his pants rough on his ears, his stitches pulling hard against his skin.

  
He startles hard when a hand rests on his shoulder, and through his haze it takes him a long moment to recognize the odd mix of strawberry shampoo and now-expensive cologne that makes up Foggy.

  
“Matt?” His voice is startling in it’s clarity, loud and ringing in his ears. His voice is hesitant when he speaks again. “You gotta breath, bud. I know you can hear my heartbeat. Listen close to it.”

  
He settles next to Matt, and finagles him gently so that his ear is against Foggy’s neck. He breaths deep and loud, and after a while Matt manages to follow his breathing, and get his own under control. He doesn’t pull himself off of Foggy, unable to bring himself to pull away.

  
“I didn’t want to leave you and Karen. I- I didn’t. I didn’t. I swear Foggy, I didn’t wa-”

  
Foggy pats his arm soothingly, a gesture so familiar that Matt’s chest aches.

  
“I know, Matt. I told Karen that, too.”

  
“Ok.” Matt says. And then he repeats it again, because the sound is soothing and he likes the way it rolls off his tongue, one after the other. “Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok…”

  
His fingers find the edge of Foggy’s jacket and he tugs on it once, twice, three times- and Foggy doesn’t say anything, just let’s him tug and tug until he’s ready to talk.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr now! Its @v-ennat , I take and give writing prompts for a multitude of fandoms. You can also find this lil work there
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!!! I see all of them and reply to as many as I can (:


End file.
